Profligate Promiscuous Strumpet

Wednesday, July 27, 2011

Today, I am so grateful for having such great friends. I have old friends, book club friends, bellydancing friends, and motherhood related friends. There's overlap in all these groups, but they have their own history, their own dynamic and their own way in making feel useful and wanted in this world.

Their ability to help me synthesise my thoughts and create joy in my life is so important and needed.

I think having friends that are parents, and that are on the same vague parenting page as you, is almost essential to Motherhood. The way society is set up at the moment, stay-at-home mums tend to spend the majority of their time with their children as the only adult. Finding other Mothers who are on the same page makes connecting and hanging out that much easier, and the experience of Motherhood that little bit less lonely. So today I am grateful for those friends, and for finding friends, old and new.

Tuesday, July 19, 2011

It's a great word, as it so accurately describes that feeling of rage that we got from douchecanoes, bad drivers and body police. It sounds kinda fun, lighthearted, with the -y ending.

But if we (progressives/feminists/equalists etc) are a community that is against violence, a community that is aware that violence and threats of violence are used against us, especially against women, I think it's a little lazy and crass for us to use such a violent term. Especially when usually we are just really fucking angry.

I know some of my very favourite bloggers use it, and those of you who do, I would love to hear from you. Am I completely off track? Is it something we should do, but meh, more important things?

Language, and the way we use it, is important. And something we should be aware of how we use.
Thoughts?

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

I am for you being shown as stronger than your sexual urges; I know you can think beyond skin, short skirts, fuckability, your dick.I know you are able to think about whether your need for sex trumps other persons autonomy.I stand with you against that shit.

I am for you being smart and capable.Ads that show you as stupid, incapable of figuring out laundry are terrible.You are smart and intelligent and adult.I am for you being shown as capable in spheres outside your workplace, especially housework and parenting.If you can build a house, run a company, balance the books, you can figure out how to change a diaper or run a vacuum cleaner.I stand with you, sharing the load.

I am for you being encouraged to show your emotions.You are not less than because you cry, because you hug, because you kiss someone the same gender as you.I am for you showing your vulnerability, I stand with you against stoic stereotypes.

I am for you having equal parenting rights, especially when it comes to part time work and work culture.You should be able to have rights to part time/job-share work on par with your female counterparts who are parents. You should have equal leave rights when it comes to newborns. This should not only be enshrined in legislation but work culture as well.I stand with you against father equalling full time working missing out on your children absentee.Fuck that.

I am for you, I love you and the patriarchy fucks you over just as much as it does us.I stand with you, strong and staunch.

NB: I apologise for the heteronormativity of the above - I did it delibrately to make an impact. I apologise for erasing certain peoples and populations.

Wednesday, January 5, 2011

Happy New Year Everybody.
I hope 2011 is full of awesome, stripey socks, kitty/puppy cuddles, yummy food and plenty of time for drinking/relaxing sleeping. Please replace any of the these with your desired relaxation/joy activities!

Chally, clever thing that she is, has written a series of amazing posts on women and Iconography at Bitch Magazine. I suggest that you make yourself your favourite beverage of choice, put your feet up and read them.

Friday, December 17, 2010

I was at a wedding earlier in the year, talking to a pregnant person in the line for the loos. We were talking about when she was due and then talked about my daughter and the son that she had already.

As the conversation continued she looked in to my eyes and said something along the lines of "It's just such a gift isn't it? It's just the best thing in the world. It's just a real gift". I nodded and smiled, looking like I was agreeing with her, all the time thinking, "Is she really serious? Does she really really believe that?"

I have heard a few people say this now. And I don't...get it. It does not resonant with me, but even more, it makes me feel squirmy. Very squirmy.

I understand that just because it's true for me, it doesn't mean that it's not true for other people.

But a gift is free, without pain, effort, cost and comprise. It comes to you with joy and doesn't take from you.

And I love her, but the Strumpette is not a gift. She comes with pain, effort and compromise. Confusion and frustration. Tiredness, every-day-grindiness. She is awesome, and smart, and funny, and oh-so-cute, but a gift she is not. Gifts don't snot on you and shit in the bath.

And it makes me squirmy - because by framing Motherhood in this way, we erase all that stuff that makes Motherhood and parenting so bloody difficult and consuming. And that does no one any favours. You can't complain about a gift, say you're struggling with a gift, that you need help with a gift.

And that is really problematic. Because then people don't voice their problems. Don't mention that they're having trouble coping. Don't explain that sometimes it ain't all baby cuddles and soft skin. Because there is nothing wrong with a gift, amirite?

I'm not saying that there isn't a lot of awesome when it comes to parenting. Because there is. It must be for the human race to keep breeding as it does. But a gift it is not. So I think we have to be careful about the way we talk about parenting to others. So we can leave the lines open to commiserate, share and debrief. Which is really the gift now isn't it?

NOTEMaybe if I had struggled with fertility and really really went through hoops to get a baby, I might feel different. For those of you in that boat, I apologise and allow you your feelings!

Monday, December 13, 2010

Make it this. In fact, given that we're almost at the end of the year, if you're only going to read one thing this finacial year - make it that. And, if, as I suspect, most of you are women reading this blog, show this article to the men in your life.

I have a friend. A great friend. I don't see her often enough and I miss her heaps. We came up with this fabulous name for ourselves, back in the day. We were Profligate Promiscuous Strumpets. And still are with any luck.

We both love words. And books. And dancing. And being loud. And flirting. And somewhere in the deep dark past, we came upon this word. Profligate. Such a good word. You can bite it. And let it dribble down your chin. We liked the meaning of it, because at that point in our lives, we were all about the excesses. (I'm not providing the definition here, because I figure you're all really smart and know it, and if it's unfamilar to you, it doesnt mean you're not smart. But it means you're here, on a computer, and can use google).

Promiscuous. I probably wasn't as promiscuous as I could have been, or as much as I now wish I had been. But we liked it - it was kind of a fuck-you to all the slut-shaming and good-girl lessons and being a lady. Fuck that. We liked boys. And men. And kissing them. A lot of them. It was sooo much fun.
So yeah... Promicsuous? Hell Yeah. Testify. Hands up in there, wave em around like you just don't care.

Ahem. Sorry, got a little distracted. I was vogue-ing in my seat and I hope you were too (or maybe that's just me again.)

Strumpet. We just liked the word. It sounded fun. And that implied sluttiness in the word,which I'm sure some people applied to us, it was another way of owning that judgment but also saying fuck you to it as well. To us, it meant sexy, and messy, and sassy and mischevious, and powerful. Which we were And I hope we still are.

And when I was looking for a blog name, I wanted something a bit fun. And a bit fuck you. And that meant something to me. I think it's probably too long. And to complicated to search for. But it's done now. And it's mine.

So, my other Profligate Promiscuous Strumpet - thanks for the great times. I miss you. And Thanks for the name for my little space on the intertubes.

N.B This posts hints a lot of the raunch culture I embraced as a young adult. My privelege allowed me to indulge in it, nay, wallow in raunch culture, relatively unscathed. One day, when I get the time, I'd like to unpack that time for you all. But I just want to acknowledge it here, so that you're aware, that I'm aware that this post touches on it, and that raunch culture is not without it's problems. All aware now? :)